


Purged

by VitricHearts



Category: Cytus
Genre: Angst, Blindness, Destiny, First fic in this fandom WOW, I can't believe I finished it tho, I don't have much to say tbh, I will be surprised if this gets one Kudos, I'm actually not surprised, No actual romance lol, Other, There's something wrong with me to be writing for Cytus, This might as well be original fic, drama?, very short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 13:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4264869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VitricHearts/pseuds/VitricHearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are the eye I am not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purged

** **

 

**You are the eye I am not.**

 

Glowing a vivid red, you glint upon the gears of destiny, blind as they were today, tomorrow and forevermore.

 

_Purification_ …

 

You drag the needle across my flesh, and I yelp and writhe and sweat for you.

 

“Destiny, _haaa_ — Destiny smiles br… _ight_ upon you, my f-friend.”

 

_Ohh, don’t do this._

 

My chest heaves, and you smoulder from within snaking amethyst tendrils, looped across your ruthless expression.

 

“Pitiful.”

 

You splay a rough hand across my stomach, and I shudder; your every touch is a malicious one.

 

“You are nothing to decide my destiny, Dak. You are as much a pawn as Theremin- _expendable_.”

 

My lip curls at this offence, for I am no sick minion of _Calamity_ —

 

But the words catch upon the walls of my throat, and I am at your nonexistent mercy. It is, however, only seconds before self-possession.

 

“Fine. _Fine_ then.”

 

I hear myself breathe, heavy and gasping, but an impossible grin pulls across my lips and tauntingly bares glinting teeth.

 

I imagine your expression tainted in that moment of rebellion. I _feel_ Thundergar’s augmenting rage surge through the burn of your needle—

 

But as you brand me, it means nothing.

 

“You… You shall _never_ seize victory.”

 

You pause, to quake, and press more deeply, intent. But as I am purged, I _know_ —

 

“We are gears in a network you shall never fathom. Destiny… She _exceeds_ you.”

 

The pain fades as I bleed in bright hues, for what graces my tongue is strictly truth. Destiny is proud of me, and I adore this, and you despise that. I know it in your hesitation, even as it is mocking, but I beg to persist.

 

“She’ll never wane under your Eyes.”

 

You are angry, but it is an enduring kind. You pulse as you hover over me, breath writhing at my throat, needle sick and stuck in a straining flesh you wish to make evanescent.

 

You must wish to devour me, but your words, vituperative, betray boundless patience.

 

“We will see, Dak.”

 

You relay this simply and smoothly for my consideration. How pensive a tone, except so vague in meaning.

 

Is this the twisted blessing Chaos has granted you?

 

In this instance, you are almost like me.

 

_Purification_.

 

You immediately return to searing the mark of Chaos into my being; I feel the nothingness seep into the cracks of my bones.

 

But it does not matter, and indeed, I do know.

 

I grin weakly up at you, uttering a sudden half-hearted laugh, gears grating to an end. But you are unfazed.

 

However, in the face of all your omnipotence…

 

“Yes Archbishop…”

 

I am more intimate with the future than you could ever yearn to be.

 

“We shall see.”

 


End file.
